


Something Stupid

by MusicalLuna



Category: Psych
Genre: Fighting, Gen, Originally Posted on Psychfic, Sparring, Unhealthy Conflict Resolution, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13699833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Shawn discovers that Juliet is a little more P.O.ed than he anticipated.So P.O.ed that she's prepared to smack him around to get her point across.





	Something Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> I read PeterPanic's character fantasy and my brain latched onto the idea like a lamprey.

“That was the _stupidest_ thing I have ever seen,” Juliet said, her eyes blazing at him from across the mat.

Shawn realized with a thrill of fear that she _was_ mad at him, had been the entire time, she had just been containing it all until now. The fists held up in front of his chest defensively clenched a little tighter. She had been waiting for this. “I realize how it looks, Jules—”

She growled and came at him, fists swinging.

Shawn flinched backwards, avoiding the first two punches, but Juliet was fast—a little blonde cheetah—and he just managed to block the next two with his forearms. He winced as the blows sent needles of pain shooting toward his elbows. Those would be nice bruises.

“Come on, Shawn!” Juliet barked. “I'm going to have you on the floor in thirty seconds if you don't start fighting back!”

Instead of complying, Shawn continued backing away, turning his palms to face her. “Jules, I'm not really comfortable sparring when you're all—” He made an all-encompassing gesture at her because there wasn't really a good way to say _psychotic._

Juliet slapped him.

“ _Son of a bitch!_ ” he yelped. It felt like she'd set his face on fire.

“Fight back, Shawn,” she said, glowering at him, “or I'll hit you again.”

“This is abuse!” he whined, touching his cheek gingerly. He winced as it throbbed in response. This wasn't fair. He hadn't prepared for her being all crazy-angry. She had lulled him into a false sense of security.

Juliet brought her hand up again and Shawn's fingers curled into fists automatically, jumping to a defensive stance.

Shawn threw a half-hearted punch and Juliet slapped his hand aside. “Don't you think you're overreacting a little?!”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Juliet growled, sounding exactly like a big cat, and came after him. She definitely wasn't holding back now. “You _stupid_ , selfish _idiot!_ ” Right hook, uppercut, stomp, sucker punch—

“OW!” he yelled and his hands dropped to clutch at his ribs, where her knuckles had hit. “Really?! Come on, Jules!”

She just glared and swept his feet out from under him.

Shawn hit the mat with a _whoomph_ that knocked the breath out of him and electric bursts of pain flared up in his bruising arm and ribs. Juliet descended on him, knees on either side of his hips. She leaned over him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “If you _ever—_ ”

Her threat went unheard as Shawn reacted to being pinned; he grabbed Juliet's wrists and rocked his legs toward his head. His shins hit Juliet in the butt and she let out a startled noise, pitching over his head and onto the mat. Using his momentum, Shawn swung upright and then onto his knees, lungs spasming painfully as they finally let him draw in a breath. Behind him, Juliet growled under her breath, “Son of a _bitch_.”

He wheeled around to face her, flashing his palms again. “Let's just—take a second—to cool off, Jules,” he panted and winced as the spot she'd nailed on his ribs twinged. He pressed a hand against it. “Man, that really _hurt_.”

“I'm not finished with you yet.” Juliet looked the picture of rage, her cheeks flushed and strands of hair sticking out like a mane of crazy. Her lips were pressed together so tight all the color had bled out of them.

He held out a hand, holding a finger up. “Now, Jules—”

“You're unbelievable!” she snapped and darted forward, low to the ground, fist aimed at his knee.

“Dammit, Jules!” He dodged, pulling his leg up and Juliet countered using her left hand to pivot and kick him soundly in the tailbone. He swore, loudly, and danced away from her, rubbing the new sore spot. “Seriously?!”

Juliet swiped the back of her wrist over her temple, soaking up sweat and pushing back some of the crazed flyaways. She scoffed at him. “Please, you don't take anything seriously.”

Shawn glared at her. Now she was starting to get on his nerves. “That's bullshit and you know it.”

She cocked a hip and tipped her chin back, looking at him down her nose. “Oh, that's right. You're seriously idiotic.”

Shawn's spine stiffened. “Hang on. When did you swap bodies with Jules, Lassie?”

“Well, it's not like you've done a lot to prove me wrong. That stunt you pulled earlier—”

Shawn huffed and spread his hands, his head tipping backward. “Oh, now you're calling them stunts, too. That's fantastic. You, my dad, and Lassiter should just get together and form a little club. You can call it _Cops Who Don't Know What A Stunt Is_. CoWhoDoKnoWAStI for short.”

“Look, another instance of you failing to take things seriously. Shocking!” She rolled her eyes and Shawn bristled.

“Oh, so because I don't do it the way you guys do, I'm not taking things seriously.”

Juliet's expression hardened. “The way _we_ do it is the way we're _trained_ to do it.”

“Yeah, and training never fails you.” He moved forward, throwing a punch that she dodged exactly as he knew she would. He hooked his foot around her ankle and she fell forward onto the mat. He spun, pinning her with a knee in the middle of her back, her hands pinned over her head. She growled, jerking at her wrists. When that didn't work she kicked a foot back and he grunted as it hit him in the butt. He edged back and pinned her legs. Leaning forward, he put his mouth next to her ear and said, “Yeah. Your training is _great_.”

“Screw you,” Juliet growled through gritted teeth, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.

Shawn leaned back. “I did what I did to protect you—to protect _Lassiter_.”

“Wow. You are _so_ arrogant.” She yanked hard on her wrists and strained her neck, clamping her teeth around his wrist.

Shawn howled and jerked away, releasing her wrists. “You bit me!” His wrist was wet with saliva, but unmarked.

Juliet twisted beneath him. “I know a few things that weren't in my training, too, Shawn.” Her eyes glittered and Shawn realized too late that he needed his hands.

“Jules—”

He buckled forward as her fist slammed into his sternum, vaulting the air out of his lungs— _again._ His chest seared with pain as his lungs tried and failed to operate. Ow, ow, ow...! Juliet's fingers curled around the back of his neck, bringing him cheek to cheek with her, her lips brushing his earlobe. “What you did was just plain _stupid_ , Shawn, no matter how you justify it. You are _not_ expendable _._ ”

It felt like he was dying. His head dropped against her shoulder, a thin, high wheezing coming from his throat that reminded him of the anxiety attack he'd had after the whole treadmill-bomb thing. Juliet sighed, her breath washing over the back of his neck. She pressed her palm against the painful spot where she'd just nailed him. The heat of her skin eased the tight muscles and Shawn coughed, sucking in a hitching breath.

“When I...take a chance, I won't do it...with your life, Jules.”

She pushed his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I will not let you make that choice for me, Shawn.”

Shawn smirked wanly. “Then I guess we're at an impasse, Detective.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story archived at <http://www.psychfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=3146>


End file.
